Poem, Beloved and I

Time is paper
With which poems are unrolled.

My beloved said
You need pens, I give you trees.
You need ink, I give you oceans.
Write love poems with love
Until you run out of paper.

I said
I need much paper
I want as much as I want
My love poems are trillions and more.

My beloved said
I won’t let you write forever
The last paper is not for you
It is for me to invite poets for a party
Where a special spread is ready.

I asked
How much paper will I get
Will you give me as much as I want
Will you let me write trillions of love poems?

My beloved said
Write as much as you want
I’ll give you as much as you write
You’ll get your paper for your trillions
As long as they’re yours.

My beloved said
Be dignified, write your own poems,
As the spread will be only for those
Not claiming from others’ names.

big lunch, mini spread for my hard work today – my parents’ message about how to enjoy luxury of life: be dignified to
“eat” what you’ve worked and share with love 🙏🏼

Little Bird

Little bird, dear love,
Telling her to soar then go home
To where her heart is—

Home. Is it a what, a who, a whom, a whose, a which, a when, a where or a how? She knows hers and it doesn’t always the same as others’. 💝

shared rice with a little bird in Cointrin Airport before boarding for Amsterdam then home – a trip worth doing she should repeat 🥰 …

Nuance

Nuance, Beloved,
Painting one heart in two hues;
Comparing two times—

Some songs like poem will stay in my heart and won’t die. One of them is Dewa’s Kangen.

Never getting bored of listening to it— Weekend is the best music box! 💝

Once’s version sounds sexier 💝
Ari’s earlier version sounds sharper in heart. So young! 🥰
Ari and Andra make it raw and pure!
live show – Ari’s version is still the best! 🥰

With Love

With love, Beloved,
All is done and completed.
How would she not thank?

one of the doors of my humble abode should be adorned with climbing rose like this 💝
and one of the windows, so when the window is opened I breathe love from the pink roses 💗

Love & Trust

What is love and trust?
Wind and water pushing boat
Sailing to a land—

Yes, love can come mysteriously like Capt Nemo’s Nautilus suddenly emerged from sea surface. She might love one that she doesn’t logically expect to love at all. Love is an active emotion. If she loves, she does. If she doesn’t love, she doesn’t. Accept and embrace it with its pain and foolishness.

Yet, trust can promote or demote one to or from a position like how Capt Nemo finally trusted Aronnax, Ned and Conseil as his main crew in the submarine. Trust is a living action. Test and investigate it with loyalty and integrity. If she trusts, she’ll promote the one to an inner circle. If she distrusts, she demotes one to outer layer.

Aaah! Love is always sweet in word— just that some people don’t have sufficient vocabulary to express and to understand. Trust is always inevitable in number — just that some people are accustomed to data manipulating to look good and so hiding the fact.

Still loving you though 💕 💕

May all beings be happy.

(from Pinterest)

Dream Home (lunch break)

Dream home, Beloved,
Sitting with all senses on,
Capturing moments—

Lunch break + very very heavy rain = early wish of birthday getaway to come true!

sitting here while writing a bunch of love letters to whomever I want – 2023
long chat in Ubud – 2024
tranquil nights in Angkor – 2025
ocean air breathing in Ninh Thuan – 2026
walking in the depth of souk – 2027

To be continued with more destinations in 2028, 2029, 2030, 2031, 2032, 2033, 2034, 2035, 2036, 2037, 2038, 2039, 2040, 2041, 2042, 2043, 2044, 2045, 2046, 2047, 2048, 2049, 2050, 2051, 2052, 2053, 2054, 2055, 2056, 2057, 2058, 2059, 2060, 2061, 2062, 2063, 2064, 2065…. As if I knew how long I will wander around here? I hope to live as long as time is mentally and physically enjoyable with family and friends without bothering them.

Long life, fresh and sane!

Then came the calculation part…. A lot of coins to spend to comfortably celebrate that way in those particular places. Easy! Just need a clover pendant to make it happen. 😝

4-leaf good luck charm immediately wanted!!! to make dreams come true 🍀

Thanks for the rain and daydream. I know there is more than meets the eye! Life is so rich and I accept all the gifts.

Crossroads

Crossroads, Beloved,
A while gauging where to go—
Follow the North Star.

Today’s conversation with one best friend was a bit nostalgic. She talked about how she went to spiritual class (very common in my country to do so for religion or non-religion based teachings) until finally she quit at 45. Her reason was disappointment to teachers. She asked about me and I said quit at 30’s and my disappointment was to myself.

A stubborn student, I wouldn’t listen to what teachers told me to believe or to do. I would ask questions then believed only when choosing to believe; even with good explanation, I wouldn’t believe if not interested to believe.

One example of the fool was when a particular teacher gave “daily task” to recite “Bismillahirrahmanirrahiem”, I didn’t do it even he only asked me to recite it 10x a day, while the other two were 100x a day. “No, Teacher. Why do I have to do it? I already read it as part of Alfatihah recitation in my daily prayer, that’s more than 10x a day,” said I. It was when praying was five times a day for me, oftentimes 7 times! 

Bismillahirrahmanirrahiem is a sacred word uttered by Muslim or most traditional non-Muslim Javanese when starting an activity. It means “In the name of Allah The Gracious The Merciful”, some interpret it as “On behalf of Allah The Gracious The Merciful”. By reading it the reader is expected to only do good thing with good intension with love. The teacher also said that reading it we were doing self alignment: align the self with the true self, to be true to ourselves, to easily make decision and to cut short confusion and to always be blessed, to blend action with good intension.

Amazingly all teachers understood the fool and just gave a lot of smiles and books to read which annoyed her more and more. I became frustrated seeing the two good friends gained fast track understanding of life. I decided to quit then did whatever was fun fun fun ignoring the essence of being human being.

Only years later I found that self alignment is very important and I was sorry for realising it late. I finally got it why those two good friends were so peaceful while I was still struggling with almost everything. It was also the year when we found that that dear teacher passed away of old age.

I know where to go because I am fool…. where? to you…. 💗

Now? Learning to care more about inner journey and well being. Whatever happens to me is a consequence of my decision. If the decision is aligned with my true self, it leads to success. If the decision is false and against my true self, it leads to lesson learnt. Lesson learnt leads to better decision. Better decision leads to success. Success to me is not merely material gain, it can be simply being able to smile in tough time. This simple lesson is a result of years of battle for a stupid person like me.

My best friend asked me how now to deal with self alignment esp when in confusion.

Me: I recite Bismillahirrahmanirrahiem cumulatively 300x before night sleep.

BF: Why? Did that teacher come virtually and ask you to?  

Me: No. I found that this word is my best to strengthen self-alignment between good intention and action.

BF: Why 300x? He said 10x.

Me: He discounted the price. I’m 30x more valuable than his appraisal. 

BF: Arrogant fool!

Me: I’m just a fool.

BF: There are two of us. 

Lesson learnt: Always find a way to see my fool not others’. Always find a way to laugh at my own self not at others’.

Alfatihah.

So I Can Meet You

I don’t want to race.
Only safety that I wish
So I can meet you.

started late today and found the undercharged front lamp, decided to go back to the brighter track, safety first 🧷
brighter area near home is always the safest

Sent by The Breeze

Cool breeze, Beloved,
Caresses her long black hair
Sending sweet message—

in silence I’m sending a sweet message by air that surfs on the waves of ocean 💝

Dear Lover

Lover, Beloved,
With whom air and joy is shared,
By whom tears soon dried—

Being excited about solo travel wished in near future has made me remember places visited alone years ago. One of them is Madrid. Exciting one! Also ridiculous one! This trip was where I had: Korean food for lunch (my hunger came earlier, while people in Madrid have lunch at around 2pm so the most recommended Madrid restaurant was not open yet), Chinese silk bought (order from my beautiful best friend who was craving for it), lapis lazuli earring studs purchased for €80 (found them only S$40 in Lucky Plaza, might be only IDR300,000 in Jakarta), walking around the same street 4 times to find one place that was shown very clearly in Google Map…. I was lost in mind because of too many handsome faces on the road 😂

Madrid though won’t be a city I will go alone anymore. This place is too romantic to go without a lover.

One more thing, be careful of pickpockets! Too many, too many!

Salaam. 💝

I still believe I saw Cristiano Ronaldo in Starbucks there but none of my friends believe me 😆

Dream of You

A beautiful view
Conjured by moon, sunk by sun.
It feels faraway,
A dissipating shadow.
At least I dream about you.

Sunday, did you conspire with the sun to snap my dream? Never mind. I’ll call the moon again to get it back. 😄

Happy Sunday!

Freydoon Rassouli’s Alchemy of Love

Your Name

Your name, Beloved:
Air blanketing fragrant space,
Soil firming the stance—

Shakespeare said “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.”

He isn’t wrong. Yet he isn’t always right.

I call a name when rain is sweetly pouring down, call another name when day is scorching too bright and hot….

Why is it easier to call your name than my own? Is your name so strongly rooted that only it I can remember when it rains? Is it your name or is it you that stays with me?

Oh you….

Oh your name….

Salaam.

is the flying butterfly not anymore the caterpillar greedily eating before sleeping? am I still the un-named baby born by my mother? 💗

Why Space & Time

The depth of silence is
As deep
As ocean of possibilities.
Shaken, the ocean will splash
Drops of gifts.

Time once revealed
When the gifts will appear.
It once said
There is a moment in time.

Space once revealed
Where the gifts will arrive.
It once said
There is a point in space.

Spacetime once revealed
Why the gifts will engender.
It once said
There are reasons in life:
Unfortunately wrapped
In colours and shapes,
Often times disguising things:
A crow into a dove,
A wolf into a sheep,
A dumpsite into a garden,
A villainess into a heroine,
An evil witch into a kind queen,
Bent into straight—
Misleading this traveler’s direction.

Once it was said
There is
One
That she will find
Somewhere some time only if
She minds.

Dear, Light.
Only
You can reveal
True colours
True shapes
True hearts
True reasons.

Be deeply silent
Even in the crowd
Where ocean of possibilities
Is shaken
In this spacious time.

Hey!
The gift is relatively fair, Beloved.
Be ready.

🌊

when window nook is ready for daydreaming, no book, no paper, no gadget – just her welcoming gifts

Self Discovery (ranting)

Point zero, my love
Here now, unshakeable ground
After the earthquakes—

I’ve been a full time thinker for the past one week…. Thanks to the physical weakness brought by the virus! 🥰 And here is the ranting abridged 🙃

Life has always suggested me to walk through places where paradoxical situations exist and has made me weigh what life path should be chosen. Luckily life has always sent me angels (fallen angels included 😄) who remind me that life isn’t only about exploiting what’s considered lucrative and physically pleasant; it’s also about exploring what’s wising-up and spiritually enriching.

When I was young; books, courses, lectures, workshops were kind of “subscription” I had to shape a level of mental toughness. Yet there was exhaustion and anti-climax for intensity every now and then (good deed included 😄). Losing faith, difficulty to trust human beings and skepticism to almost everything triggered me to deconstruct my own mindset.

Another “point zero” came and brought a decision to take a course inspired by one friend named Eva (not one of my close friends but she is definitely one trusted human being). I promised to myself that this would be my LAST course to finally be unshakeable me.

I flew to Edinburgh and was driven from the airport to a place called Chisholme House by Mr Brix who became an excellent opening of my self re-discovery. He introduced me to the richness of self re-discovery even before the course started. That was when I felt so lucky to have read Ibn Arabi, Rumi and English literature although not extensively and to have learnt Javanese wisdom that is considered “local” by many of my friends (which I always disagree) as Mr Brix’ languages were using all those keywords in the repertoire from my literature reading and cultural wisdom. Indeed Mr Brix was a “gate” welcoming me to a true friendship or fellowship bonded by humanity.

The course was simply daily schedules for us to an experiencing life or “human beings who work” — physically, mentally, spiritually, socially in connection with their own self, other human beings and nature. Of course the classes was the superb! Collins, Hiroko and Aaron were excellent facilitators and to me they are role models of ordinary yet impressive human being! Collins was a loving husband and father cum the best administrator. Hiroko was a loving mother and wife cum an excellent painter! Aaron was an excellent chef cum wise philosopher! 💝

It was so normal a life that I felt so blessed. We woke up in the morning then took a bath or at least took ablution. We started the day with a group meditation — everyone: the course participants, kitchen staffs, office staffs, garden staffs, etc except those who overslept. Then we had breakfast — English breakfast! After that we started the class; the staffs started their duties. After that we had tea break then WORK! Work meant doing the assigned chores (garden, kitchen, house, laundry). After that class again then English lunch! Then lunch break for one hour. Class again. Mediation again. Work again. Afternoon tea. Personal time (we could go to the hill, forest, sleep, talk to staffs or participants, whatever). English dinner. Discussion time. Free time. Sleep…. Repeat.

Completing the “self re-discovery”, I found that life is like riding bicycle, balancing while moving. I lose, I win. I fall in love, I break heart. I get sick, I get cured. I trust, I distrust. I think, I feel. I work, I take a rest.

Balancing is about knowing the limit. I lose against someone/something but I gain wisdom. I fall in love at the same time I have to accept the unpredictable responses. I get sick then I will be cured. I trust with or without reasoning yet can also distrust because of the true or false reasoning. I think based on logic yet when logic doesn’t count, only feeling of acceptance will neutralise the situation. And, when I am tired, I should take time-out. Just like that!

And I actually graduated with flying colours from many “extra” lessons: doing laundry, washing dishes, house keeping, potato harvesting, making bread, cooking English lunch, preparing dining table, raking dry leaves, going up and down the hills in the rain, walking in the moorland, listening to silence, listening to others’ opinions, identifying and recognising true intelligent people, trusting the right people at the right time in the right place, respecting stupid idiot (myself included 😂), taking a bath in the cold morning, and more and more!

And yes, that was the last course in my life. Ordinary yet impressive, like what I always want myself to be to and for those having in touch with me.

I want to be back there not as a participant but as a guest in the English breakfast or lunch bringing a best friend who deserves an ordinary yet impressive life.

…. 💕

Thanks for today! 😴

Salaam…

farmhouse where participants and volunteers slept during the “Self Discovery” in Chisholme Institute (there are male house, female house and couple wing) – missing the place and good friends there 💝
the main house where we meditate, contemplate, brainstorm, do household chores, enjoy meal and good company during the “Self Discovery”
‘The Monument to Man”: this place is one of reminders for me to stay on this track: a track where life abundance isn’t always represented by or captured through social high class and luxury show off – ‘ve lived among those with abundance yet humbly bowing to the underprivileged – thank you for this decent life 🎀
hi, Edinburgh! I’m sure I’ll be back 🥰 next time with someone I love with heart and soul 😘

Torii

Torii, Beloved,
Opening from here to here
To be entered now—

I’ll always make tomorrow morning inevitable in life like a torii that connects here now and another here now. These happy steps are walking from torii to torii, with another pair of steps inevitably aligning with me.

Salaam.

💝

torii from pp #31 of James Norbury’s “Big Panda and Tiny Dragon”

Dirgahayu, Indonesiaku ke-77

Duhai, Indonesia. Serupa apapun engkau, kau adalah tempat lahirku. Walaupun saran dan nasehat bertaburan untuk menjadi pemegang status PR di rumah keduaku ini, aku tak goyah. Nggak papa…. PR atau bukan PR passport-ku tetap Indonesia. Hanya cinta dan hidup-mati saja yang boleh membuatku jadi PR atau pindah kewarganegaraan. Selain itu, no way!

Indonesiaku, terima-kasih telah menjadi tempat lahirku dan tempatku belajar hal-hal pokok untuk menjadi manusia utama. Kalau aku dilahirkan dan dibesarkan di negara lain, mungkin aku jadi orang yang bermewah-mewah dan tidak down to earth.

Indonesiaku, kemanapun aku pergi, kamulah darah yang mengalir di tubuh ini. Dimanapun aku tinggal, engkau tetap menjadi tujuan pertama pulang atau liburanku (ya setahun satu atau dua kali deh). Dengan siapapun aku bergaul, kamu tetap warna primerku.

Kecintaanku padamu bukan pada para pejabat buruk yang mengurusi ketatanegaraan. Kecintaanku tulus pada tanah, air, udara, rakyat dan makhluk di sekitarnnya.

Merdeka!

what a coincidence! this number is really escorting me this year
💝
didn’t attend this year’s flag-raising ceremony in the embassy because of this cute virus 💝 next year I will, bismillah!

Clay Jar

Broken clay jar, Love,
A love letter torn apart.
Message of a heart—

How broken you are, I will always love and respect you as a clay jar that records history and memory, in the hands of an ignorant they become waste and rubbish, in the hands of wise lessons and wisdom.

I’ll take your broken clay jar to kintsugi craftsmen in near future trip just in case they can also repair broken clay jar. 🤭

Otherwise, I’ll keep it in my mini cabinet of curiosity to be a reminder that a heart is so fragile or so broken and so worth handling with care.

Salam…. 🙏🏼

RC Gorman’s

No Losing!

I will win
In any battle.
My flag is rising
As high as the farthest star
Reaching you
Bravely!

In me is a girl who dares!
I’m brave!

Don’t try me!

I am….

Brave!

I won’t give up! You sell, I buy! ALL!

Listen

Listen, Beloved,
Humming angels keep singing
Song of union.
Ears can’t hear, too low a voice.
Heart can, swayed by the wind though.

Root deep, Beloved.
The song vibrates in the earth,
Making grass and flowers bloom,
Brightening up the meadow—
Listen, Beloved.

It takes enormous patience to listen to the silence. Hey! Is it being patient or simply allowing quietness to sit where birds and monkeys are hopping and making noise?

Listening is a skill. A skill needs practices to mastery. Mastery takes time. Time takes breathing, in, out, with awareness.

—practicing listening mode on—

holla…. love ya! (RC Gorman’s work of art)

Gotta Get Thru This

Some beats, Beloved!
Let’s dance under this night rain!
Gotta get thru this!

💃🏽

Daniel rocks! My favourite playlist when I was cute and innocent 💝 now again!

Love Makes

Love makes heart full.
Love makes heart empty.
Love makes heart laugh.
Love makes heart cry.
Love makes heart closer.
Love makes heart distant.
Love makes heart trust.
Love makes heart distrust.
Love makes heart bloom.
Love makes heart wither.
Love makes heart healed.
Love makes heart broken.
Love makes heart warm.
Love makes heart cold.
Love makes heart enlightened.
Love makes heart blinded.
Love makes heart beautiful.
Love makes heart wicked.
Love makes heart bright.
Love makes heart weary.
Love makes heart sing.
Love makes heart scold.
Love makes heart write love poem.
Love makes heart compose hate speech.
Love makes heart recite ballads.
Love makes heart scream hoax.
Love makes heart look foolish.
Love makes heart look angry.
Love makes heart love more.
Love makes heart hate more.

Love makes heart swing like a pendulum between two ends.

You say love is
You say love is not
You ask what is love

Love makes space
To those willing
To feel,
To taste,
To experience
Millions of what’s-nots
To know
The what-is.

We decide
Which space
To be filled
With what.

This is about love—
An unlimited edition
But still
Difficult to grab.

missing home where love is as simple as opening the door ajar to let the breeze in – please bless me oh Allah…. this poor soul 💝 thanks for everything

Where’s Mr Sun?

Mr Sun’s hiding
Behind curtains of colours.
This brain cheats the eyes.

Ah! What is before these eyes isn’t always what is. It doesn’t matter; although it is not what is, it is still what is when it is clear what is not.

Bumpy road of saying no before finally saying yes is a long battle, a long journey to win the best throne of this heart. Know it and accept it.

Salaam. 💝

is it the ability to capture the horizon or the limitation of man-made lens that makes the shot scenery not as stunning as when viewed with these eyes? Or these very eyes get cheated?

I Slowly Spell Your Name

Though not a true ID,
Your name ships all senses to
An existence.

A name that I spell slowly,
A name representing silence and unattendance,
Almost ignorance.

Is
Your name
A password
To where a gap between real and unreal resides?

Is
Your name
A padlock
With which a visitor busily matches the key?

Is
Your name
Sugar leaf
With which a cup of tea gets sweetened with its dissolving?

Is
Your name
Coffee powder
Which settles at the bottom of a cup after its releasing caffein and acidity?

Is
Your name
A myth
That resembles history?

Tell me
The story of
Your name.

Your name
That
I slowly spell
Every time
A face flickers
Around this nerve system.

Indeed a name isn’t a true ID. The ID is more than just the given name.

Namamu Kueja Pelan-Pelan by Pusakata

Long Battle

This love, Beloved,
A battle to win the heart
Zooming in and out—

How distant are we? Never away, just the lines and dots that project substantial distance. Once perspective is well understood, near far is never an issue as all are cluster of objects in the same dimension.

Yet how well is perspective projection can be accepted by this foolish brain?

Not easy to do it well. It is to play the focal length. It is a long battle to win the heart; is it my heart? Or your heart? Or both? It depends on what the computation is based. Can only wish it is based on mathematics that contains literature for accuracy without beauty kills hope. And living without hope is walking zombie.

💝

red torii: balance that stands out, mercury painted to battle the climates, poetic geometry

One by One

Wishing, Beloved,
Upon a star where dreams sit
Waiting to be picked
One by one to the bucket
Before the steps reach the home—

Many dreams look so much near. Places to go on earth displayed in Pinterest lengthen the list and be a good escape for mind every weekend before dosing off. Can only wish that the lengthened list lengthens the life, pushing the EOL later and later— 🤗

Some dreams can’t even be described…. You are as near as far away…. 🙃

Happy weekend. Oops long weekend.

next year, next year…. please 🥰 want to stand under those trees and greet the women who carry loads on their heads! beautiful! 💝

Beads of Pray

Counting beads of pray,
An echoed name flows away
Through silence of heart.

Have you ever prayed so silently? No one can hear. Only beads of pray click. A remembrance of love that is unseen. Beyond the ocean and beyond existence—

Literature is a limited tool to disclose ideas and emotions; not accurate enough to shoot one heart. Math is sharp to operate a complex equation; not sweet enough though to state naked truth.

With what then should I count this reality between two lovers? Beauty or precision?

Only beads of pray is whispered silently. Who knows the river will sail this soft voice along its flow introducing it to the estuary that escorts it to the ocean where winds push the current following the North Star to meet with you.

Salaam.

Sincerely,

from a tiny heart wrapped in a peaceful morning